


Kisses

by Inopportunist



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Christmas Cookie, F/M, Kissing, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 08:24:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inopportunist/pseuds/Inopportunist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wonders what kisses taste like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from christmascookieship:  
> http://christmascookieship.tumblr.com/post/51576935386/inopportune-opportunist-im-bored-people

What is the taste of a kiss, she’d wondered. Would it hurt? Who would kiss her?

Her sisters had frowned when she asked.

Who cares how the kisses taste if he is wealthy, they’d reprimanded.

But Mother had smiled and kissed her forehead and her cheek and told her that the best kisses tasted of love.

How did love taste, though, she’d wondered.

Her sisters chattered and laughed.

Love has no flavor, they’d said, and they told her love was not necessary.

Mother was never able to describe to her the taste of love, she was gone and so was father.

Her feathers grew in and she raised an army.

In time, she grew to think like her sisters. What did love matter when the world constantly warred against the darkness, against fear? She did not care to have a husband and her army were her children. There was love there, for the children, but never romance and she did not care.

The day they met was horrifying and wonderful. They fought alongside each other in a beautiful whirl of steel and sharpness… and the darkness fell.

She could see he was handsome, in a tall, dark, roguish way. But she could also see that she was not beautiful, not to the standard of Mother’s people or those of Father’s. She did not care, romance was not her agenda; she was a warrior queen, nothing more.

The years passed and the Workshop was built. She visited even when her palace buzzed with activity. Woodcarving was apparently a little more than a hobby to him, the Workshop was filled with odd, foreign designs, all painted brilliantly, in vibrant hues.

He told her the colors were as beautiful as her plumage and then he showed her the little carving of herself next to the Sandman, Aster, and North himself.

“Is perfect likeness, I make sure,” he told her. “Just as beautiful as original.”

She might have told him she was not beautiful but she couldn’t. He seemed so proud of his work that she could not help but share the sentiment.

“You did a wonderful job,” she told him instead and he smiled brightly at her, like a child.

She visited periodically for tea and cookies over the next century, stopping in when she had the time. They were both constantly busy as the number of children increased. Their appearances changed, he grew older and she evolved to become more efficient, more hummingbird that human. She loved to talk to him, his accent was lyrical and he was always excited to explain his most recent toy or what the elves had done the week before.

One day, as she left, he grabbed her wrist and asked her to stay a moment longer. He had made her a gift, he explained, in celebration of their long, happy friendship. She stayed, thinking only that she had no gift to give in return.

He presented her with a carving, beautifully painted and lovingly crafted, of herself.

“Oh North!” she exclaimed, tears in her eyes. He came closer and she flew into his open arms, wrapping her own about his neck. “It’s lovely!”

He smiled, “Only as lovely as you, Toothy.”

She looked up then, and their eyes met and the warmth there surprised her.

Mother was right, the best kisses tasted of love.


End file.
